My Secret Life

One night she said Madame had had no one visit her for a long time, nor was she much out but often was all night, where she went she did not know; there was one man who came, a gentleman, she thought he was a lover of Camille's.

We came out of the house in **** street one night after a surfeit of voluptuous pleasures, when a woman stepped across the road, and lifted up her veil. “Oh! my God, it's Madame”, said Louise, and she got right at the back of me where I stood. “So”, said Camille, “I have found you out, you have been in a baudy house with my old friend.” She burst into a laugh, turned, and went away without saying another word.

I don't know what actuated me in my course of conduct, at that time I knew well what I did, but my reasons are not so clear, I cared nothing whether Louise knew that her mistress or sister knew I had had her, yet I did not go to the house, firstly because Camille wished me not, unless she was out, and it did not suit me to be waiting for a girl who was burning to let me have her, and also because Louise was in a funk when I was with her in the house, and Camille was out. I was convinced they were sisters, and had a glimmering, that Camille would not like Louise to know she had been got for me by her; yet I thought that it must be found out.

As Camille walked away Louise began to cry, I could not get a word from her; we walked up and down A... street, she was frightened to go home, we went back to the baudy house, and there we slept. The next day we stopped there, and I went home with her, —Camille was within.

“So you have been to a baudy house?” said she, “so you have been fucked, fucked by my friend; you are a nice one to speak ill of other people.” “I am not a whore”, said Louise taking cheek. “Ain't you?” said Camille, “I don't know that.” “Say I am a whore, and I'll hit you”, said Louise going up to her. “Have it out by yourselves, I am not going to stop for a row”, said I, “Camille be good to the girl.” “If I had not brought her from France she would not be what she is.” What was I going to do with her? “Nothing.” Then the sooner Louise went out the better.”

Louise sat down, and began silently crying. I hate to see a woman cry, and always had one remedy, — could champagne be fetched? Mother Boileau condescended to fetch some. We drank, I got communicative, and began to tell Camille. She cut me short, wanted to know nothing, we had been in a baudy house to. gether, it was enough. What was I going to do? the girl would no longer work, and she was going into other lodgings, I might take hers for Louise if I liked.

It gradually shaped itself to this: I was to take the lodgings, Camille to stay rent free, a servant to be got, but one particular friend only was ever to visit Camille there; Louise took Camille's bed-room, Camille Louise's, I had in fact the pleasure of keeping both. The next night I slept with Louise in Camille's bed, slept there several times, and one morning Camille said, “You have got the girl with child, I quite expected it.”

This annoyed me. I had been getting tired for some time, did not like the girl, who became so jealous of Camille, wanted so much admiration, that she quite fatigued me. She wanted to walk in the streets to be admired. I had given her more clothes, she got careless, wanted to go to theatres, and I took her. The Argyle was just opened, and I took her there, she wanted me to go there often. I had seen one or two other women I lusted for, but above all wanted to go to France with Fred who had returned from India; so her being in the family way bothered me. I got it into my head, that it was a plant, and took her to my friend the doctor who said it was a fact.

Camille asked me to meet her in G. . d. n Sq.. e, for convenience I took her to the baudy house; she had got mighty particular, made me go in first, and came in afterwards with her veil down, — she always now wore a veil. She again asked me what I was going to do. She had got the girl, and was sorry for it, at length she said, “I am going to be married, go into business, and will take her with me, if you will help, or I will get her home again to France, if you will give her money.” I agreed to think of it.

We sat on a sofa. As I looked at her I began to feel a desire for her. “Let us have a kiss”, said I, for old acquaintance sake.” “No”, said she, “I am going to be married, am perhaps watched, am frightened of being here. I expect my friend back from abroad daily, he may have come back now. Madame Boileau knows him, I must be careful.”